Forbidden Silver
by bellzzz
Summary: The Infernal Devices fanfiction. She had always thought her life was miserable enough, and that it couldn't possibly become even more horrible than it already was. But when a new danger arises in London, things take an impossibly worse turn. Or does it get impossibly better?
1. Prologue

Her nerves tingled as Will turned the emerald green box over in his hand. "What do you think?"

"It's creepy." The girl responded, her slim build shook unconciously with trepidation.

"Relax, mai dim ond blwch."

"I know it's just a box," she scowled. Her brother could be extremely irritating at times. The girl leaned forward, peering over Will's shoulder. Her curiosity far overwhelmed the fear that danced around the edges of her heart.

She didn't know why she was so afraid of that simple box. Perhaps it was because they had found it hidden in a fake drawer, why would their father have gone to such lengths to hide just a simple box? Or perhaps, it was because of that ominous and dark atmosphere that the box exuded. Everything about the box screamed creepy and evil.

Will inserted the hair pin she'd supplied into the keyhole and twisted it before lifting the lid of the box open just a crack. Unfortunately for them, just a crack was enough. A stream of black smoke poured out of the box through the tiny opening, sweeping past the twins in a blink of an eye. It gathered again three feet in front of them, swirling wildly like a mini hurricane. The thick black smoke pulsed with a bright blue lustre. The light grew brighter and brighter as the smoke solidified and hardened—finally forming a figure that was a million times more hideous and monstrous to them, than a duck was to Will.

It was enormous, with cobalt-blue scales and jagged teeth. A huge barbed tail swung lazily back and forth behind the creature. It's bulbous black eyes glared lividly at them. If looks could kill, the two of them would have been little piles of ashes in the Silent City by now. The young girl's cry of horror was piercing.

The creature—a demon, roared in response. The loud, shattering sound only served to make her shriek even louder. Her fingers clung desperately to her brother's shirt, twisting it in her fist. She could feel the strong vibrations of his chest as he shouted in alarm as well. Will's pulse beat fast and hard under her tightly clenched fingers. He attempted to swallow back his fear but a strangled scream escaped from his mouth instead.

The demon roared again, advancing towards them menacingly. The siblings stumbled back. Will lost his footing in the thick persian carpet and brought his twin down with him. The girl fought back a curse as she released his shirt. The two of them clutched at each others arms tightly instead, their horrified stares fixated upon the demon before them.

Her limbs felt like lead, unable to move even an inch as the demon hovered over them. It snarled dangerously.

"Go away," she cried weakly, her voice was barely a whisper. Upbraiding herself, she recollected the strength in her throat. "Go away!" She yelled again, the waver in her voice replaced by determination. But what could determination do against a beast like that?

The demon cackled. "Go away?" It smirked in amusement, yet it's eyes held thinly veiled anger. "I think not. I've been trapped in there for over twenty years, and you think I will let the children of my captor go just like that?" The demon hissed, its grotesque face hovering over them like a huge, ugly fly.

Just then, the door to the library burst open. A lean figure darted in, her eyes raging wildly. She brandished a glowing crystal blade in one hand as she leaped to stand in front of her younger brother and sister.

"Ella! No! Fynd allan o'r yma!" Will yelled at her frantically.

"I'm not leaving." Ella stood her ground against the demon, her face set bravely in fortitude. "Get lost demon, I banish you." She glared at the demon with fiery eyes, the seraph blade held out in front of her defiantly.

But the demon merely laughed, a feral cackle that chilled the library and sent an icy tingle down their spines. "Amusing. Very amusing. Come back when you've learnt about pentagrams girl." The demon retorted acidly.

It's tail whipped out, catching Ella by the side and flinging her across the room. The sword tumbled out of her hand, while she hit the wall and slid to the ground with a sickening thump. "Ella!" The younger girl's muscles ached to run to her, to hold her older sister and check if she was all right. But the demon had turned back to them again.

"It is your father I would destroy, but as he is not here, the two of you will have to do." It simpered in glee, rubbing its claw-like hands together at the prospect of revenge. "I curse you both. All who love you will die. Their love will be their destruction. It may take moments, it may take years, but any who look upon you with love will die of it, unless you remove yourself from them forever. And I shall begin it with her." It snarled in Ella's direction, and vanished.

All that was left was a thin puff of black smoke that smelt faintly of rotten apples. Ella had picked herself up by then and she came rushing to the two twelve-year olds, embracing them tightly and whispering comforting words to them.

"Mae'n iawn, everything is going to be fine." The younger girl was able to hold back the torrent of tears that threatened to spill over for her sister's sake. But she worried all the same. 'And I shall begin it with her.' The words echoed endlessly within her head. She scrutinized her sister over and over for injuries, but aside from the small cut where the demon's tail had hit her, Ella was fine.

Nevertheless, she half-expected Ella to fall dead any moment. The other half of her denied the demon's words, and pretended that the curse had never been said. Ella led the shaken pair of twins to bed, tucking them in with a story she made up on the spot. She had a talent for stories, a talent which she used then, weaving an intricate tale about fairies and warlocks. The little boy fell asleep at the first mention of 'glitter', while his twin stayed entranced. Both because of the story, and her concern for Ella.

Despite the enchantment of the beautiful fairies and the handsome warlocks, the little girl never forgot the demon's words. She didn't forget them either, when she woke up the next morning to a shrill howling fraught with grief.

She dragged Will up from the bed beside hers, and the two of them ran out of their room, following the source os the moaning until they finally stopped short outside the room that was Ella's. They peered past the heavy oak door, only to be met with a grisly sight. Ella.

She lay in her bed, as still as a stone. Their mother was hunched over the body, her thin frame heaving with sorrow. Their father knelt beside the bed with little crystal droplets trickling down his face. He stood up instantly when he saw them, moving to hide the greenish-black corpse from their view. The body that looked as though rot had spread throughout the entire corpse from the inside. The body that had used to be Ella's.

Their father strode forward now, ushering them out through the door and back to their own room. He told them it was nothing and wiped his own tears away hastily. He tried to comfort them, to tell them to go back to sleep where their dreams were filled with delightful fantasy and not gruesomely dead sisters. He tried to tell them everything was okay, but the words came out of his mouth as a choking sound instead, and he left the room in a hurry—unable to say or do anything more.

The twins shared a look of despair. Their curse was at work already. "Mae'n rhaid i ni adael." Will whispered to his sister, "Or they will all die."

"I know, but where do we go?" He clenched his fists in frustration, burying his head in his hands. The girl stared forlornly at her brother's despairing form.

Just then, she caught sight of a large, brown object sitting on the nightstand between their beds. She was certain it had not been there the night before.

"Gwilym," she called, before reaching over and picking up the object.

It was a book. The cover was bound tightly with dark brown leather, and words written in gold decorated it. Curved sharply at points, the letters looked menacing and threatening. The metallic gold colour served to enhance its elegance and grandness, but also made them look aloof and uninviting. Three of these words had been written. 'The Shadowhunter's Codex'.

Will peered curiously over her shoulder.

"Look."

Sticking out of the top of the book, was a portion of a piece of parchment. A single line of Ella's neat calligraphy could just be seen at the top of the parchment. 'The enemy of your enemy is your friend.'

* * *

A/N: Hey:) I hope you guys like the story so far! This is just the prologue, and more will be coming soon. If you have any questions or constructive criticism to give, then please leave a review or you can PM me! Sorry about the amount of Welsh inside by the way, I wanted to make as realistic as possible, although I doubt they would be speaking any english at all considering they live in Wales... Anyway, I translated everything in Welsh to english and the translations can be found below! If you think I shouldn't give translations or should be giving them in another way or not give them at all, then review and tell me please!

Thanks for reading!

bella:)

Translations:

'mai dim ond blwch' – it is just a box

'Fynd allan o'r yma' – Get out of here

'Mae'n iawn' – It's okay

'Mae'n rhaid i ni adael' – We have to leave

'Gwilym' – William (Will)


	2. Chapter One

The girl swung her sword at her brother again, twisting towards the left at the last second. The blade connected with Will's arm instead of his chest. A thin line of red gathered almost immediately on his upper muscle. Blood dripped in rivulets down onto the polished floor of the training room.

"Leandra," Will sighed exasperatedly. "I have armour on my stomach, head, chest and shoulders. Was it really necessary to deface my arm?"

"There _is_ no fun in hitting a piece of armour, Will." She grinned broadly at him, before shoving her sword into a nearby rack and retrieving her stele from the table next to it.

Finishing a hasty iratze onto her brother's fair skin, she watched in satisfaction as the wound began to knit itself together.

Just then, the door burst open. Charlotte Branwell came rushing in, the usually gentle curves of her face were contorted in anxiety and concern. Her desperate, pleading eyes spoke all that she needed to say and the siblings sprinted after her immediately.

Neither of them exchanged a word until they finally slowed down in front of the slightly ajar door that led to Jem's bedroom. Charlotte pushed the door open without a sound. Treading lightly across the carpet, she made her way across the room. Henry, her husband, was already seated on the edge of the bed, carefully sponging Jem with a damp piece of cloth. Staring glumly at her feet next to him, was Jessamine. She glanced up only to eye the smeared blood on Will's arm skeptically.

The Herondale siblings hurried to the other side of the bed. The girl seated herself cautiously on the corner of the bed furthest from Jem's still body while Will knelt down by his parabatai's head, his callused hands were unusually gentle as he adjusted the quilt.

Leandra's heart sank as she took in the sight in front of her. One would've thought she'd have gotten used to seeing Jem in this state by now, but no. It struck a fresh, new wave of misery and sorrow each and every time. She could feel her heart drowning in despair as she tried the hardest to push away the doubts and questions that surrounded her. Jem's illness was quick, violent and sudden. The occurence of an attack was always a heart-stopper to the residents of the London institute, for no one never knew what would be the outcome. _What if this was really the end? _

"Lee?" She stiffened at the sound of her name. Giving Will a questioning look, she wiped her face clean of any emotions that would give herself away. She couldn't let them know of her concern, not even Will.

"Could you—are your eyes wet? You're crying?"

The girl shot him a glare. "Something got into my eye," she lied hastily. "You were saying?"

"It's nothing, I just wanted to borrow your handkerchief." She handed it to him wordlessly. Silence washed over the room again as Will wiped splatters of blood of Jem's hand, presumably from the coughs earlier on.

Ignoring her brother's constant, worried glances, she gazed sullenly at Jem. His face was drawn and taut, making his silvery hair stand out even more. His pale skin was flushed and feverish-looking. A wet cloth had been positioned on his forehead, but it seemed to have no effect as Jem continued to burn up with fever. He murmured restlessly, tossing and turning around on the pristine, white coverlet.

"Lee, Will," Henry started, breaking up the tense silence. "I hate having to remind you both with Jem in this condition, but I fear we still have to carry on with the expedition tonight. Everything has been readied for departure, and we cannot afford to waste time in this case. The dark sisters are incredibly formidable and can do harm in a split second."

"We know, Henry," Will said smoothly. "But without Jem with us... I'm afraid two people won't be enough. We need you to join us, Henry, that is if you aren't too busy causing explosions."

"Go with them," Charlotte urged her husband. "Jessamine and I shall stay with Jem."

Henry hesitated, but nodded and left the room to get his weapons. Leandra left soon after, her eyes lingering on the motionless figure on the bed before exiting the room.

Her own bedroom was just across the hall, only a few steps away from Jem's. Shutting the door, she twisted the lock and proceeded the strip away the countless armour pieces on her body. She detested sparring sessions the most out of all the different forms of training. It took a long time putting on and taking off all the armour. Lee switched her drenched and malodorous training shirt for a fresh, thick, cashmere sweater. A long, tight-fitting pants completed her look. It wasn't much, and Jessamine would certainly have a fit if she saw what she was wearing. But Lee had a feeling dresses and corsets would be extremely unsuitable where they were heading.

Running her brush through her thick, jet-black hair, she braided it tightly before hurrying to the weapons room.

Thomas wasn't there to assist her as he usually was, which meant he was already with the others by the carriage. After stuffing daggers down her boots, slotting knives into the cuffs of her sweater and sheathing two seraph blades on each side of her waist, she proceeded down to the main entrance. Will and Henry were already there waiting for her.

"Girls," Will muttered, cocking an eyebrow to tease her further. "Why do the feminine-inclined humans take such a long time to dress compared to us manly beings?"

"Maybe because we aren't slobs." She retorted with a playful glare. "Considering you've regained your usual air of arrogance, I assume Jem is better?"

"Much better, he woke up just as I was about to leave the room." Will's grin was genuine as he spoke of his parabatai. The relief showed clearly in his voice.

Lee nodded, joining Henry on the front steps. She tried but failed to suppress the small smile that played on her lips. Thankfully, the institute's carriage rumbled into view then, attracting the others' attention.

Thomas tugged on Xanthos and Balios' reins, pulling them a stop in front of the steps. The trio climbed inside. Tonight, they would take care of the Dark Sisters and put an end to whatever dark business they were sure to be conducting.


	3. Chapter Two

Changing into little Emma Bayliss' body had been hard, and undoing the rope around her ankles had been even harder. Her fingers were plastered with sores and bruises. But nevertheless, Tessa Gray was extremely relieved to be free of her bonds.

The relief lasted only a second, however, as a sharp click sounded from the locked door. She whirled around immediately. The knob of the bedroom door was turning, twisting back and forth. _Mrs Dark_, she thought. The woman was back to take her to the Magister. Tessa hurried across the room, seizing the porcelain jug from the washstand before scuttling to the side of the door, the jug gripped hard in her whitened fist. The knob finally twisted around and the door opened.

In the dimness, all she saw were shadows as someone stepped into the room. She lunged forward, swinging the jug with all her strength.

The shadowy figure moved, but not quite quick enough as the jug slammed into the figure's outstretched arm before flying from Tessa's grasp to crash into the far wall. Broken crockery rained onto the floor as the stranger yelled.

The yell was undeniably a masculine one. So was the flood of cursing that followed. She backed away, then dashed for the door—but it had slammed shut, and tug as she would on the knob, it wouldn't budge. Bright light blazed through the room. Tessa spun, blinking away the tears in her eyes—and stared.

There was a boy standing in front of her. He couldn't have been much older than she was—seventeen or possibly eighteen. He was dressed in what looked like workman's clothes—a frayed black jacket, trousers, and leather boots. Thick, brown straps criss-crossed his waist and chest. Attached to the straps were weapons—daggers, knives and things that looked like blades of ice. In his right hand he held a sort of glowing stone. It shone brightly, casting onto her room ominous shadows that made it look even more forbidding than it already was. His other hand was bleeding from the cuts on his slim and long fingers. But that wasn't what made her stare. He had the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Tangled black hair and eyes like blue glass. Elegant cheekbones, a full mouth, and long, dark lashes. Even the curve of his throat was perfect. He looked like every fictional hero she'd ever conjured up in her head. Although she'd never imagined one of them cursing at her in such a fashion.

He seemed to realize she was staring at him, because the cursing stopped. "You cut me," he said. His voice was very pleasant. _British_. He looked at his hand with critical interest. "It might be fatal. The least you could do is—"

The door knob jiggled frantically again. "Will! Are you alright?" The anxious voice from the other side definitely came from a girl. "The doorknob's hanging half off its faceplate, what did you do this time?

"Hang on a second." The stranger—Will replied hastily. He turned to the door, found the knob, turned it, and yanked—

Nothing happened.

"It won't work," she said. "The door cannot be opened from the inside."

Will grinned ferociously. "Can't it?" Reaching for his belt, he chose what looked like a long, slender twig made of a whitish-silver material. He placed the end of it against the door and drew. Thick black lines spiraled out from the tip of the flexible cylinder, making an audible hissing noise as they spread across the wooden surface like a directed spill of ink.

"You're drawing?" Tessa demanded. "I don't really see how that can possibly—"

There was a noise like cracking glass. The doorknob, untouched, spun—fast, then faster, and the door sprang open, a faint puff of smoke rising from the hinges.

Standing just outside the door and staring at them with alarm, was a girl who looked just like Will.

She had the same silky black hair, except hers was much longer and had been pulled into an elegant french braid. Identical blue eyes, full lips, and long black lashes. However, her nose wasn't as sharp as his, and her cheekbones were less prominent as well. She was beautiful in an unusual way, much unlike that of the girls she had been accustomed to in America. Elegant, sharp-featured and striking, the two teenagers in front of her were a rather unique pair indeed. However, the girl's apparel was rather outrageous, even to Tessa—who couldn't be bothered with her own attire most of the time. The girl had on a shoddy, cream-coloured sweater and black leather pants that reached her ankles. The same abundance and variety of weapons as Will had were strapped to her thighs, waist and sweater cuffs. Tessa wasn't usually one who would comment on another's attire, but this was definitely a startling first for her—seeing a female dressed in such a manner, let alone adorning weapons. She herself did not have even a single pair of pants as her aunt had forbidden them and deemed them unworthy of being worn by a proper lady.

"We're twins." The girl said abruptly, and Tessa realized belatedly she had been staring at them for an abnormal length of time. Her cheeks burned a deep crimson. Twins. That explained a lot. But not quite the answer to the question in her mind.

"Oh." She kept her reply short and simple. Teenagers with weapons certainly spelled trouble. Those two were probably in cahoots with the Dark Sisters, here to take her to the Magister. Fear and dread chilled her bones.

"Are the two of you here to take me to the Magister?" Her eyes were wide as her gaze riveted on Will. "Are _you_ the Magister?" Though how one as good-looking as him would need to kidnap his bride was beyond her. Girls would jump at the chance to be his bride.

Will tilted his hand to the side. Blood ran down it, spattering the floor. "Dear me, massive blood loss. Death could be imminent. And you want to know if I am the Magister? That means 'master' in Latin, doesn't it?"

"I …" Tessa was feeling increasingly as if she were trapped in a strange dream. "I suppose it does."

"Please," The black-haired girl snorted. "Will may have mastered many things in his life, including the Japanese art of flower arranging, lying at charades—"

"—Not to mention delighting young women with my charms," Will interrupted with a cocky grin.

Tessa stared.

"Alas," he went on, "no one has ever actually referred to me as 'the master,' or 'the magister,' either. More's the pity …"

"Are you delighting me with your charms now, then?" Her cheeks flushed furiously and suddenly, as she realised how awfully rude she sounded—or worse, flirtatious.

"I guess you might say that... Although I would prefer if you'd let me flirt inconspicuously, "he muttered. "What's your name?"

Tessa looked at him in disbelief. "What's my name?"

"Don't you know it?" His twin asked incredulously. "I suppose I could come up with a name for you if you want, I am rather good with naming people." Tessa stared faintly at the other girl. She, just like her brother, seemed to enjoy speaking of the most absurd things in dire circumstances like the one they were in.

"You—you've come bursting into my room, scared me half to death, and now you guys demand to know my name?" She rounded on the female. "And you want to give me a name? What on earth is your name? And who are you, anyway?"

The siblings seemed surprised and amused by her outburst, gawking at her like she was an exhibit in a zoo. Not quite the result she had hope to attain. Will was the first to recover.

"William Herondale, but everyone calls me Will."

"And my name's Lee."

"It's Leandra actually," her brother added, "but she claims calling people by their full first name is rude. An absurd concept, really, even for me."

Leandra—Lee scowled and punched her brother's arm. The one with blood streaming down it. Will yelped in pain and glared at her.

"And here I was, hoping you would help me with an Iratze."

Will held the glowing stone out as he made his way to the window, peering out curiously.

"Pity we're on the third storey, or we would've been able to jump out. Guess we'll have to take our chances through the house."

Tessa was thoroughly confused. "I— I don't understand, we are escaping?"

"Well, if you want to stay here... I guess the choice is up to you," Leandra stated. "Although I highly doubt you'd want to stay in a room and where you have to sleep tied to a bed."

"No," She muttered in a daze, "I don't—"

A loud slamming echoed, far away but still very much inside the building. Will sprang away from the window. He landed with a wince, and glanced ruefully down at his injured hand. "I'll need to take care of this later. Come along …" He looked at her pointedly, a question in his eyes.

"Miss Gray," she said faintly. "Miss Theresa Gray."

"Miss Gray," he repeated. "Come along, then, Miss Gray."

Lee nudged the slightly ajar door. It opened wider to reveal darkness—Will had stuffed the glowing stone into his pocket—Tessa shivered at the prospect of entering the gloom. If she closed her eyes, she could just imagine she was with Miranda again, heading off to meet the Dark Sisters for yet another training session.

Lee crept out, gesturing for Tessa to follow her.

"Let's go."

A/N: Hey guys! Finally finished this chapter! I thought I would do it in Tessa's point of view, because I wanted her perspective of Lee and Will. And I know this chapter was really long and only a filler chapter, but don't worry, there will be plenty of action in the next chapter!

Also, can you guys please tell me what you think about Leandra's nickname? Do you think 'Lee' sounds fine? If you don't, then it would be great if you could suggest another one!:)

Thanks for reading!

bella:)


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